Rising Tension
by letsmeetatbakerstreet
Summary: Sherlock notices John is a bit tense and decides the best thing to do is tell him. John/Sherlock.


Sherlock Holmes and John Watson exited Scotland Yard, both satisfied for different reasons. Sherlock because he had gotten his own way yet again and John because he couldn't wait to get back home, he'd spent a while watching Sherlock collect everything he wanted whilst muttering and chuckling under his breath. It was only 8.00AM and John was already exhausted and irritable.

"Taxi!" shouted Sherlock. Apparently he beckoned too loudly and too closely to John's ear and the smaller man erupted.

"Jesus Christ, Sherlock! Why did you have to scream into my ear! The taxi was right in front of us!" Even as John said it he knew he sounded stupid, he knew he was overreacting for no reason but he felt tense and he needed to take it out on someone.

Sherlock tutted and rolled his eyes as he slid into the cab. "One of those days again then..." he muttered.

"What?" John prodded.

"It's one of _those_ days again. "Weeks" is probably more apt actually." Sherlock stated dryly.

"What?" John tried again but Sherlock simply turned his face and started out of the window. John huffed, folding his arms in the process, cursing under his breath and quite frankly acting incredibly childish.

John Watson always knew that he and Sherlock Holmes had a strange relationship in every manner of the word. Only a moment ago he was scowling with his arms wrapping themselves around his chest and pouting like a toddler having a tantrum. Presently, he was busying himself with making lunch for himself and Sherlock as nothing had ever happened. He was still angry, but it was as if he learnt to forget with Sherlock, as if Sherlock had a sort of '_All Access Pass'_ that let him off the hook all the time. He was definitely an exception to John's rules.

Sherlock sat coolly on the sofa. His legs tucked in front of him with his hands resting on his knees and his fingers tips pushed together. He started at the television but he didn't watch it.

"John, I'm not hungry."

"Yeah well, when I haven't seen you eat anything in 2 days food isn't really optional anymore."

"And just because you haven't seen me eat it means I haven't?" Sherlock retorted as John made his way over with a plate holding a neatly prepared sandwich.

"Yes, because when am I ever not with you?" John stared intently at Sherlock for a moment, holding his gaze as the atmosphere changed slightly. John stared at his feet and cleared his throat when he felt the moment had lingered for long enough.  
>Passing the plate to Sherlock he sat himself down in the armchair. Just as he was about to take a bite of his sandwich Sherlock interrupted.<p>

"John. I'm not. Hungry" Sherlock's face was like stone as he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Godammit, Sherlock. Will you just eat the bloody sandwich? It isn't doing you any good and you know it. For me, please just eat it." John realising he started pleading slightly added a sharp "Now" to the end of his sentence when Sherlock didn't respond.

The detective lifted the bread with his hands begrudgingly and tore a chunk away with his mouth, chewing slowly with his eyes closed. John knew Sherlock was hungry, he watched on until the sandwich was demolished and his flatmate rustled open a packet of crisps. He smirked contentedly and began finishing his own lunch.

Sherlock offered to wash up, which was unusual. Still, John never protested.

Sherlock could feel John approaching from behind him so he swiftly turned on his heels to face him, tea towel in hand.

"Yes?" Sherlock sounded cheerful.

"What did you mean in the taxi? One of _those_ weeks?" John questioned, making sure to keep his voice light.

The smile that played on Sherlock's lips faded. "Oh, I just... when you're particularly irritated by me you know. It's one of _those_ weeks." He threw in a swift smile that was too rehearsed for Sherlock and turned to face the sink once again, screwing his face up in frustration at himself for not being able to lie to John and hoping John saw past it. He hated having these types of conversations with him, with anyone for that matter.  
>John's hand settled firmly on the top of Sherlock's shoulder, clasping with his fingers he spun Sherlock to face him again. He had a smile on his face, not knowing what was coming next.<p>

"Can you not just tell me? Much easier." John ran his tongue over his bottom lip because he was anxious; he smiled trying to hide it and waited for Sherlock's answer.

Sherlock's face tensed for a moment then he tried to look more natural, gesturing his arms and shifting his body position. "Ha, well John. You know how it is... with you ordinary people and your... human... needs?" Sherlock sighed out loud dramatically knowing he was getting nowhere by the now puzzled look on his flatmate's face. His persona seemed to switch as he fired the facts at John.

"John, you haven't slept with anyone for 2 months, 1 week and 3 days. Your body is quite frankly yearning. You are becoming incredibly irritable and the fact that this case involves a woman that is interested in me, more than she is you manages to tick you off more. Your mood swings are becoming unpredictable and your eyes are nearly always dilated. John, if you want to excuse yourself to 'de-stress' then be my guest because you are annoying me so much I am close to whipping you with this tea towel."

Sherlock managed to spew out his embarrassing deduction in under 20 seconds, though to John it felt like a lifetime. John could feel the redness rising up his neck and over his cheeks as the words flew out of Sherlock's mouth and into his ears. That last remark make John's eyes flutter slightly and his balance wobble. _That was something new. _He'd always found Sherlock's deductions exhilarating but not in the way he was finding this one now.

Sherlock felt embarrassed around John for the first time in his life. He chewed his bottom lip after finishing his paragraph, his mind racing over how he managed to let the tea towel comment escape him.

"Sh-Sherlock...I" John stammered, trying to compose himself. "I'm fine" he managed.

John's mind raced as he repeated what Sherlock had said. 2 months, 1 week and 3 days, how the hell did Sherlock remember that? And how did he even know that that was the last time? Before he could stop himself the words flew from his mouth.

"Whip me with a tea towel?" John tested.

Sherlock's expression had manifested into a state of nothingness for a good few minutes now. His composure seemingly unshaken until he opened his mouth looking for words but nothing came out.

2 months, 1 week and 3 days..." John continued, now pacing around the kitchen table with one hand folded across his body and the other hooding his face slightly as he waited for the redness to peel back down.

"...that's very accurate, Sherlock" he carried on expecting answers but Sherlock's mouth just opened and closed, bobbing like a goldfish.

John stopped now. He stared at Sherlock, narrowing his eyes, was Sherlock flushed?

"Yes well, I am an observant man. That has been obvious since our first meeting". Sherlock remained still and he spoke in an airy tone. John couldn't help but notice how he skimmed over his question about the tea towel threat. "I am also a man of little words, Dr Watson. I'm... I need some fresh air so I'll see you later. Good day." And with that Sherlock swept past the shorter man, John heard the door click confirming Sherlock's exit.

John cringed at the formality of how Sherlock spoke to him. _Dr Watson? Good day?_ Was this how Sherlock reacted when he was uncomfortable or embarrassed? John decided on both.

It was around 10.30PM. Sherlock had been gone from the flat since 9.00AM, except for his brief return at 1.00PM collecting all the samples he promised to return to Scotland Yard.

"Afternoon John, I'm going to take these back to Scotland Yard now, okay? Yes of course it is I..." Sherlock managed to string together this jumbled sentence before leaving again and before John could say anything.

The telly mumbled softly as John's head lolled on the back of his armchair, his legs were stretched out in front of him and his hand gripped a bottle of beer that rested on the arm of the chair. He wore only a pair of simple striped pyjama bottoms and a plain grey t-shirt. He wondered when Sherlock was going to be home, it was okay for him because if he stayed out late and didn't come back it was easy to assume that he'd ended up at Sarah's. Sherlock had nowhere to go; John certainly couldn't imagine him spending the night at Mycroft's.

A few minutes passed by as John fidgeted around his thoughts. He was tapping his finger tips against the side of his beer bottle when he heard the sound of shoes creeping up the stairs. He straightened himself up, trying to make himself look casual. He grabbed the newspaper he'd previously tossed and flicked it open, furrowing his brows and squinting as if he was deep in an article.  
>He could see Sherlock appear in the door frame so he lowered the newspaper he was pretending to read.<p>

"John"

"Sherlock"

Sherlock put his hands in trouser pockets and strolled slowly, putting one foot in front of the other to stand in front of John, staring down at his face.

"John, I want to make a formal apology about earlier. I shouldn't have raised any of the... issues you have" Sherlock's strained as he said that last part. "It's not really any of my business and also I'm... sorry about the tea towel, thing. I was just... trying to-"

"-look its fine." John interrupted him, Sherlock looked grateful to have a breather; he could feel his vocabulary running low.

John offered a weak smile and Sherlock accepted it, offering one back.

"Oh well that was tedious" Sherlock sighed as he slumped on the sofa pinching the bridge of his nose. "I always thought of London as a lively city, turns out a Thursday isn't one of those days" he chuckled a little bit. "Tracking yourself around London for hours is torture."

John could sense the forcefulness of the small talk that Sherlock was trying to create.

"Why didn't you just come back to the flat?" John asked trying to remain casual.

"I thought it would be best to leave you... some time." Sherlock said delicately, gazing into John's eyes with that familiar look. "Turns out you didn't use the time wisely" he added not so delicately.

John tensed. Could he keep nothing private from Sherlock? How the hell could he possibly know that he hadn't _loosed up? _He hadn't even been back in the flat for 5 minutes and he already knew.

John sighed deeply. "I'm sorry if it annoys you, Sherlock. I know that I'm irritable at the moment but I just... I've been too tense today to..." he didn't need to finish.

"I've left you alone all day, John." Sherlock stated annoyed. "What else do you expect me to do?" Sherlock spat out.

"I don't know, helped me out maybe?" John fired back too quickly.

The atmosphere in the flat managed to freeze and heat up at the same time.

"What?" Sherlock's eyes locked onto John's.

There was a very long pause as John calculated what the best thing to do was.

"I'm going to bed, I'm tired and we need to be up early again." John managed to stifle, his face was burning.

He went to walk past Sherlock but an arm reached out across his body, blocking him from the doorway.

John stopped; both men were facing in opposite directions but stood right next to each other, their arms touching.

There was silence for long time before Sherlock broke it. "John, come here."

John moved slowly, stepping backwards so he could see Sherlock's face. It wasn't pale as it usually was it was flushed and his forehead slightly damp, John could see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

John voice broke as he spoke. "Sherlock what are you..." He clears his throat. "What are you doing?" He spoke as quickly as he could because he felt Sherlock's hand touch his side, his fingers tangling in his thin t-shirt pulling him closer.

"John, I..." Sherlock breathed as their faces nearly met.

John closed the gap as the anticipation grew too much and their lips crushed together. Sherlock's eyes flew shut and his eyebrows drew together. Their mouths had only been together for a few seconds before Sherlock's fingers pushed against John's chest and their lips parted with a smack.

"Sherlock..." John's voice trembled as he removed his hand from the small of Sherlock's back.

"I don't know... what I am doing" Sherlock's throat hummed.

"I... I do." John's voice was barely audible. He breathed into Sherlock's ear softly before he lowered his mouth and kissed Sherlock's neck. Sherlock just stood there shivering; he didn't know what was happening, he just knew that it was making him nervous and excited.

John planted a few more kisses in various areas over Sherlock's neck, applying tongue every so often. As his kisses grew deeper and he pressed his face harder into his companion's neck, Sherlock wrapped an arm around John's body and ran his fingers through his hair, stretching his head out backwards allowing John full access.

Somehow Sherlock's suit jacket ended up off of his shoulders and resting in the crook of his arms, John hands were running over Sherlock's body as his lips made their way down into the 'V' of Sherlock's shirt.

Realising Sherlock's buttons were restricting his intentions he breathed out hungrily "Sherlock your shirt, it... it needs to go".

"Take it off then, John" Sherlock murmured back.

John did exactly that.


End file.
